


they have their days

by foxwins



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Action, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Movie, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwins/pseuds/foxwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that the good times aren't good- they are, they're better than good, it's just that their bad times are <i>really bad.</i> Mostly because bad times involve one or both of them being shot.  </p><p>Or, alternatively: How Eggsy and Roxy Learn How to Hold On</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. another sucessful mission

**Author's Note:**

> a collection of drabbles, not in any chronological order. all somewhat sequels to 'who's gonna catch you now' but you don't need to read that for this. assume established relationship between Eggsy and Roxy, unless otherwise indicated in the notes because sometimes the timeline jumps around. rating may creep past T occasionally, but I'll give you a heads-up.

It's funny how just twelve hours before, the two of them were eating ice cream cones and strolling around London, the picture of idle romance.

 

And now Roxy is shaking at the top of a skyscraper, trying her very best not to feel Eggsy's blood soaking into her gloves as she holds pressure on a wound.

 

It hasn't hit anything vital, at least. Eggsy's still conscious and joking around, more for her sake than his, she knows. The humor isn't really making her feel any better, though, because her partner still has a hole in him and his blood is still staining her fingers and _where is the fucking helicopter, Merlin?_

 

"It's alright, Rox. I've had worse, y'know." Her fingers tighten and then release quickly as he lets out a grunt at the pain.

 

"Shut up, Eggsy, and please focus on not bleeding out, alright?"

 

"Roxy…" He squirms and tries to sit up, only to be pushed firmly back down.

 

"No, no, no, don't you dare move, Galahad." Roxy's nerves are frayed to shreds, her suit is torn, and her best friend and lover and teammate is bleeding under her hands.

 

It's been a long night. Roxy's certainly feeling it, and it must show on her face because Eggsy whines and tries to shift again.

 

"Don’t. _Move_." She has to bite back a scream. He flops back with a sigh.

 

"Then you come down here." His voice is soft but challenging, making Roxy wish nothing more than they were curled up in bed together and not stranded post-mission on the top of a very tall building with no railings.

 

She still bends down to kiss him, being extremely careful not to lose pressure on the wound. His neck cranes up into the kiss, but otherwise Eggsy stays still, which Roxy is grateful for. For a few heartbeats, she feels a bit better.

 

Roxy breaks away when she hears chopper blades descend near them. There's no way Eggsy doesn't notice it, but he still makes a petulant noise when she draws back. Her nose lets out an ungentlewomanly snort at his expression.

 

"Ride's here, Eggs." He doesn't say anything more, just lets the paramedics load him onto a stretcher and out of earshot.

 

Roxy follows, deafened by the chopper's blades and blinded by its lights. _Another successful mission_ , she thinks bitterly.

 

(And then chastises herself, because what they did tonight was more important than either of them, really. She just wishes that Eggsy hadn't been shot.)

 

* * *

 

"Go _home_ , Rox-Rox."

 

Roxy frowns, because no one should sound that smarmy and insufferable when they're being wheeled into an operation room.

 

"Eggsy…"

 

He lets out a long-suffering groan. "I'll live, Roxy. Get a move on, will ya?"

 

Sighing, Roxy turns and walks away long enough for Eggsy to be moved behind a closed door, and then turns right back around to seat herself in one of the waiting chairs. She knows from experience that the doctors won't let her in until he's out of operating.

 

Curling up in the chair, Roxy closes her eyes and tries not to think about dying.

 

* * *

 

She creeps stealthily to his room, glancing around to make sure that no overbearing nurses are near to ward her off. Seeing none, Roxy slips inside.

 

Eggsy's hooked up to a beeping heart monitor, but the unevenness of the blips alert Roxy to the fact that he's still awake. Emboldened, she moves forward to his bed.

 

As she comes to his side, Eggsy turns and smiles at her.

 

(Roxy'll never admit how reassuring that smile is, but she's pretty sure he knows anyways.)

 

"Did they stitch you up, Eggs?" Her fingers come to sweep down the curve of his cheek, thumb rubbing over a scar gracing his jaw. His head tilts into her touch, turning so that his mouth kisses her palm. Roxy shivers.

 

"Should've gone home, luv."

 

"I should've done a lot of things." she says. Eggsy looks up at her sadly, expression turning into an exaggerated pout that makes her chuckle and swat his shoulder. He grins and pulls at her arm, gingerly tugging her into the cot besides him. Carefully, so carefully. Avoiding the gauze on his torso, he manages to wrap an arm around her, snuggling her into his uninjured side, lips pressing into the crown of her head.

 

"It wasn't your fault, Rox." he insists. She exhales heavily, shutting her eyes.

 

He's wrong, of course. If she had been faster on the drop, warned him a little sooner, taken down her target faster, maybe she would have stopped it. Roxy knows without a doubt that 'what she should have done' will haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.

 

It doesn't matter. Eggsy's alive, breathing in her arms, heart thumping steadily against her. Roxy holds on a little tighter and promises to do better next time.

 

"Thanks, Eggsy."

 


	2. be the exception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gets a litttttttle bit M towards the end, but nothing too racy

Roxy has to watch Eggsy seduce a lot of people. It's all part of the job.

 

Doesn't mean she likes it. In fact, she loathes it. Her fingers feel like they might snap the delicate stem of her martini glass as she looks across the crowded bar at Eggsy with all of his considerable charm turned on full force towards a woman who is not her. He rubs his neck and subtly flexes his arms, pulling his elbow back to make the too-small shirt strain even more than it was before.

 

(She doesn't know why he keeps his old shirts. They're obscene.)

 

She can almost hear her teeth grind as the mark's hands come to caress Eggsy's shoulders, and has to bite back a scream when he purrs and leans into the touch like a graceful, muscular cat. His voice rasps in her earpiece.

 

"Let's see if we can get that armor off of you, huh?" Armor. Their code word for a secured distraction. Roxy stands up, dusts off her dress, and sets down her much abused glass, moving quickly towards the now-unsupervised back room. Glancing around quickly, she jimmies the lock open and steps inside.

 

There's not much in there except for a few battered cabinets, but Roxy quickly zeroes in on the alphabetical range she should focus on. Yanking the drawer open, she starts to paw through the folders inside, keeping some attention on the action being relayed in her ear.

 

Eggsy's voice is still rumbling, slowly growing more and more lewd as he and the mark wind their way into an unoccupied room. Roxy winces slightly at some of his more colorful phrases.

 

"Find the pearl in your jewel box? Really, Galahad?" Roxy murmurs under her breath as she rifles through the cabinet. The sound of Eggsy choking back a smart remark is almost palpable, but Roxy can hear the smile in his voice as he continues to croon at his target.

 

Her hand lands on the file she needs. "I've got it, Galahad. Move out." He doesn't respond, but Roxy assumes it's because he can't give away his status. Opening the door a crack, Roxy scans the room for any onlookers and creeps back out. Heels clicking on the floor, she weaves her way through the crowd to the exit, pressing herself out the door, to the side, and waits.

 

And waits. And waits.

 

Every few minutes she'll hiss into his earpiece, but he always responds with one of their safe words, voice completely at ease. Roxy fumes, and keeps waiting.

 

Eggsy shows up some fifteen minutes later, looking like a million rumpled euro with mussed up hair and lipstick stains over his crumpled collar. He turns to grin at her, but falters slightly when he meets her furious gaze. A look of chagrin appears on his face, but the damnable smirk remains.

 

"Sorry about that, Rox. Bit mental, she was. Wouldn't let me go." he says. Her lip curls at his words.

 

"Enjoying yourself, were you?" she bites. He looks surprised, almost. Bastard.

 

"Course not, luv. Why would I?"

 

"Get to the car, Unwin. We need to get back to the hotel." Eggsy gives her a wounded look but follows her down the steps and to the car, buckling himself into the driver's side. She rests her brow on the cool glass of the passenger window, watching the droplets of rain slur the lights outside.

 

A tense silence occupies the ride along with them, Roxy's arms crossed and Eggsy's brow furrowed.

 

"Rox, you know I never--"

 

"I know." She bites out the words harder than she means to. "I know." Slumping back and letting out a long sigh, she rubs at her eyes, and doesn't even care how the makeup smudges and smears. "It's been a long night."

 

"That's a bummer." he says, playing it off with an affected casualness. She turns to face him, brow rising incredulously.

 

"Why's that?" she asks. He still faces the road, but he's got this shit-eating grin on his face that gives Roxy a familiar exasperated anticipation tingling in her stomach.

 

"Here I was, plannin' on makin' this night even longer for you. But I guess if you're not up for it…"

 

She laughs, tossing her head back onto the seat. "Floor it, Eggs."

 

* * *

 

"Say it," Roxy drinks up Eggsy's gasp as she draws back from him, but ignores his petulant whine. "Say it, Eggsy. Say-" she moans as he bucks his hips into hers, "say you're-- oh." He laughs breathlessly at her.

 

"Say- say what, Rox?" Eggsy's hand slips between her legs to toy with her, and she lets herself be lost in the sensation for a few moments, hips rocking into his palm. He's just as deliberate about his as he is about anything else, fingers and hips moving in perfect tandem to play her like a fiddle. She must be especially responsive, as the noises he's making are entirely too self-satisfied. Her fingers come down to twist in his hair and hold his head down on the mattress. A guttural sound escapes at her tugging, and she smiles in victory.

 

"Say you're mine, Eggsy Unwin. Swear it." He tries to bring them together again, but she pulls out of his way. His hips strain upwards, completely and utterly focused on her. Roxy won't pretend that she doesn't revel in it.

 

"Rox--"

 

Her fingers tighten.

 

"Say it."

 

"I'm yours," he moans, humming in pleasure as their bodies reconnect. "I'm yours, Roxy, I'll always be yours." She bends down to kiss him as he arches eagerly into her touch.

 

"Promise?"

 

"I promise, Rox, I swear it on my life. I--" Her hips snap into his, and he breaks off. "Always, always, forever--"

 

She silences the rest of him with her lips, but he makes his devotions very clear regardless.

 

* * *

 

["It's a liability." Roxy glances curiously at Merlin's unexpected statement from across the office.

 

"What is?"

 

"You and Galahad. Having two agents working together on missions so much involved in such a… biblical way is a liability." Roxy sighs, exasperated, and pushes her hand through her hair.

 

"We're the best damn team in Kingsman history, Merlin. If you want to break us up you'll be responsible for all the deaths we might have stopped together."

 

Somehow, Merlin manages to make a pen tap sound annoyed. "I never said I was going to break you up. I just said it was a liability."

 

"It's not. It's not and you know it."

 

"You two have managed to tangle yourselves so tightly that if one of you goes down, I'm betting the other one will too."

 

"Or maybe we'll pull each other back up."

 

Merlin lets out an aggravated noise. "I hope you know what you're getting into, Lancelot. Historically… these things don't end happily."

 

"Not many things do. Maybe we'll be the exception."]

 


	3. bit of a laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I mention that I don't have a beta? cause I don't have a beta. and also this was written at 2 AM in 90 degree weather while marathoning australia's next top model.... which actually explains a lot of things, now that I think about it.

"Woof." Rubbing his jaw, Eggsy drinks in the sight in front of him. Roxy cranes a brow in Eggsy's direction, a half smirk tugging at her lips. She tugs at the end of her ponytail and poses a little in his direction.

 

"Like what you see?"

 

She's draped in a brilliantly sequined golden dress, the neckline curving into a delicate vee that exposes her collarbones. The fabric feathers out delicately, contrasting with her porcelain skin, with a slit running nearly to her right hipbone. And when she turns, oh. The dress is backless almost to the base of her spine, the entire line of her back and the curve of her shoulders exposed. Her face is done up to the heavens as well, eyes smoked out and lips painted a vibrant red.

 

"Talk about a tall drink of _Roxy_." Eggsy can't keep his eyes off of her. She's gorgeous in her bespoke suit and bare face and glasses, but this is Roxy with the volume turned all the way up. She's oozing sex and sin and luxury as she sways her way forwards.

 

He's forced to do a double take as she slinks up to him, though. In the towering heels she's wearing she's nearly as tall as he is, and looking him straight in the eye.

 

(He's not going to complain, though. The way her already toned frame is amped up by the stiletto-- that's the stuff of sex kitten legend.)

 

"We need to get these gigs more often," Eggsy remarks as he takes Roxy's arm. He shamelessly sweeps his gaze over her form, but she's preening and practically purring under his eyes.

 

"Being a honeypot in an opera house does call for extreme measures, I suppose." Roxy smooths a hand down the dress. Eggsy snorts.

 

"Hardly a honeypot. You've just got to sit there and look pretty and lonely while I nick his cellphone."

 

"We don't even need Kingsman training for this one. Natural talent at work." Eggsy hums in agreement as he opens the car door for her.

 

"Merlin must've been in a good mood when he gave us this one. We usually get the fuckin' skyscrapers."

 

"Probably gives him a bit of a laugh. Arse." The two jump a bit as a familiar Scottish accent cracks through the car speakers.

 

"I can hear you, you know." Roxy sighs exasperatedly at the speakers.

 

"If you can hear, you can explain. Why is it always the skyscrapers, Merlin?"

 

"Gives me a bit of a laugh."

 

* * *

 

" _Meine Liebe_ , are you attending this function alone?" A tall man leans against the bar that Roxy's sitting at. The target.

 

_Military dress, old. Probably fifties or sixties. The word at the beginning, was that German? German or Austrian, then. Austria more likely. Medals on his chest, but no sign of his phone. Shit._

 

Eggsy must notice too, and his voice crackles to life. "Rox, you need to find out where he's keepin' his phone. See if you can nick it. I'll cover you."

 

Nodding, Roxy turns on the charm. "Das, leider ist richtig."

 

"You speak German?" He looks pleased. Roxy turns her head away with a calculated shyness.

 

"Only a little. I was supposed to have accompaniment, but sadly it supposes I am on my own." She heaves an appropriately operatic sigh. "And I've misplaced my mobile, as well. How am I supposed to call for my chauffeur?" She turns, all doe eyed and lost. "Ich glaube nicht, dass Sie mich helfen können?

 

He chuckles. "Why do you need your chauffeur? I shall keep you company until they arrive."

 

" _Oh, bitte_ ," she murmurs, "I feel a bit out of sorts. I don't believe that I could do your company justice."

 

"I'm sure your acquaintance would be lovely in whatever state you're in." Roxy's eyes narrow involuntarily, but she works on keeping them soft.

 

"Tell you what," she purrs, leaning into him. "Allow me to use your phone to call the chauffeur, and I'll put my number in there as well."

 

"With an offer like that, how could I refuse?" He gestures vaguely, and a waiter with a silk pillow appears out of seemingly nowhere. Roxy's eyes zero in on her target.

 

"Vielen Dank, mein Herr." She reaches out for the phone, and just manages to wrap her fingers around it when he suddenly moves forward and presses a knife against her belly.

 

"You really think I'm just going to let you walk away with that?"

 

The dress is just as bulletproof as any Kingsman gear, and the synth-skin that covers her exposed skin is as well. But at the right angle, the knife could slip in between the weave and pierce her stomach. She tenses involuntarily, which only makes him press the blade closer.

 

She flexes her hand, feels the weight of the signet ring. The knife may be able to slice the fabric, but it would take a while to break through. Eggsy's voice sounds in her ear.

 

"Roxy. I've got a clean life of fire to his head, but we're not supposed to take him out this round. Can you…"

 

"Yeah." Her words have the intended effect, and her target raises his brow in surprise.

 

"What are you.." He doesn't have time to finish. Roxy swings her signet ring low into his side just as he moves forward with the knife. He drops to the ground, shaking, as Roxy lets out a theatrical wail.

 

"Oh, help, someone help, I think he's having a seizure!" The crowd rushes forwards, and she loses herself in the crush. Slipping out of her stilettos, she jogs towards the door.

 

"Galahad. I have the phone. Get the car and meet me at the back entrance." Nobody notices her as she slips into a darkened exit and out.

 

It's barely a minute before Eggsy pulls the car up. Stepping out of it, he looks her up and down in appraisal.

 

"Did a number on that dress, didn't you?" he remarks with a wry grin. Confused, Roxy looks down at her dress only to realize that the target's knife, even though it hadn't cut her skin, had sliced partly through the fabric. The vertical direction of the slash meant that the knife had slid forwards as he fell to the ground after being electrocuted. As she moved, the last few threads frayed away and a long slit opened up the front of her dress, exposing her skin to the night air.

 

Eggsy shamelessly takes in the sight. "You wearin' anything underneath that?" He gets his answer when she shifts her shoulders in a way that lets him glimpse the curve of her breast, the tiniest peek of the dusky pink tip. As he drags his gaze up to her face, she meets him with an almost predatory grin.

 

"Tell you what, Eggsy," she says as she climbs into the car. "get us back to HQ in ten minutes and I'll let you rip the rest of it off."

 

"That dress was a prototype that cost a couple thousands pounds to produce, you know." Merlin sounds thoroughly annoyed through the car speakers.

 

"And it was shite. Make another one that tears a bit less easily next time."

 

"Unappreciative."

 

"Your shoddy prototype almost got me killed, Merlin," she says, meaning to be teasing, but his line to the car goes silent.

 

"Think you hit a nerve there, Rox." Eggsy shoots her a sideways look as he drives. Roxy winces.

 

"Shit, sorry, Merlin, I was just…"

 

"I'm thinking pink for the next one." Merlin continues with an affected casualness, ignoring her comment.

 

"I trust you."

 

"I would hope so. Now, hop to it, plug in the phone."

 

Roxy reclines on the seat, plugging the phone into the car so Merlin can access its contents. Shivering as a blast of cool air hits her, she turns to Eggsy. "Why do you have the aircon on so high?"

 

He shrugs. "No reason." But his eyes continually slide to where the curve of her breast is exposed to the cold air, as if he were waiting for-- _oh_.

 

Roxy slugs him in the arm. "Can't you just drive, for once in your life?"

 

"Certainly can."

 

Eggsy breaks traffic laws on seven separate occasions on their way back to HQ.

 

* * *

 

["How was I supposed to know sequins scatter like that?"

 

"You still owe me a new vacuum."]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxy's dress is based off of [this](http://www.abeautyclub.com/gold-dresses-for-2013-girls.html/gold-dresses-for-2013-girls-05), if you'd like a peek.
> 
> and I'd like to offer a formal apology to any German speakers reading this cause I've only been learning it for ~7 months and i?? tried my best??? so


	4. my heart beats faster than yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur promised angst have fun kids

Roxy screams and wails, the most heartbroken, painful cries. A red line opens across her skin and her voice sings up an octave, sobs twisting her throat.

 

 _She's hamming it up_ , Eggsy thinks. He knows. It doesn't make it easier to watch her be sliced open by the dark figures on the screen. His fingers must tighten, because Merlin makes a vague motion towards him.

 

"Galahad…" he says warningly. "Lancelot can handle herself. We just need to get the confession on tape--"

 

"I know!" Eggsy's hands slam down on the table, shaking some of the monitors. "I know."

 

The chair Roxy's tied to is kicked over, and a lash comes down to strip skin away from her bare side. She screams something unintelligible, breaking off with a sob at the end.

 

She could take this in complete silence. Roxy could be whipped and beaten and carved down to bone and not let a single whisper past her lips. What is projected on the screen before him is entirely theatrics, an act. But like with everything Roxy does, it's good. It's excellent. Convincing.

 

Eggsy wants to smash open the monitors and drag her out. He wants to grab a mic and tell her to get free, wants to drive halfway across London himself and spring her. Merlin knows this, which is why Gawain is doing cover for Roxy instead of him. It's also the reason why Merlin's kept him in the room with him this whole time, watching Roxy writhe and scream.

 

("You two are too dependent on each other," he says. "You need to learn that you're not always going to be able to swoop in and save the other. Sometimes we require sacrifice.")

 

It goes on. And on. And on. Roxy screams and begs, the dark figures slice her pale skin open, Merlin sits quietly watching. The scene unfolding in front of Eggsy builds like pressure in his head, winding him tighter and tighter and tighter. When Roxy lets out a raking screech, he breaks.

 

Storming out of the monitor room and ignoring Merlin's protests, he moves away from Roxy's screams as fast as possible, heart pumping so loudly in his ears that he doesn't hear her tormentors confess, doesn't see her calmly and efficiently take them out, doesn't hear Merlin congratulate her on a mission well done- mostly because by that point he's busted his hands open on a punching bag, watching the skin across his knuckles redden and split, because even if he can't stop them from hurting her the least he can do it hurt with her.

 

(He knocks the bag off its chain in fifteen minutes, which gives Eggsy the kind of unofficial Kingsman record.)

 

* * *

 

[KINGSMAN Mission Report: 98.987.23

 

Agent Lancelot successfully extracted a taped confession from the target. Targets were promptly terminated by Lancelot.

 

Post-mission evaluation shows several minor lacerations and non-threatening blunt force trauma wounds were delivered to Lancelot during interrogation. Recommended minimum leave of 1 week before next mission.

 

Additional Notes: Agent Galahad experienced emotional distress during mission viewing. Recommended leave of 1 week before next mission. Psychological attachment between agents Lancelot and Galahad should be reviewed.]

 

* * *

 

"What did that bag ever do to you?" Roxy leans in the doorframe, dark eyes watching him abuse the gym equipment. Eggsy, breath heaving, turns towards her voice.

 

She's clean, showered and patched up, but her skin has a pallor that belies her casual stance. Roxy can feel Eggsy's eyes narrow in on her busted lip, the mottled bruise around her neck, the slim red line that disappears under the collar of her jumper.

 

"The bag didn't do nothing. It's other people that're doing me in today." Wincing as he rolls the stiffness out of his shoulder, Eggsy makes his way over to her. As he draws near, she can see where the wrapping has come away from his knuckles, revealing a tattered mess of blood and bruise beneath. A wince twists her face.

 

"Any particular reason you're beating yourself bloody?" she asks, already knowing the answer. Eggsy leans heavily against the wall and begins to untwine the loosened wrappings.

 

"Couldn't watch the mission feed anymore. Tried to get my mind off of it."

 

"We all have to do these missions eventually, Eggsy. You can't do this to yourself every time it's my turn."

 

"What do you want me to do?" he says angrily. "Did you want me to just sit there and watch you get shredded, cause I ain't about to do that. I can't."

 

"Do you think it's any easier for me?" Her sharp tone seems to catch him off guard. "You had to do one of these just a few months ago. It wasn't easy for me to sit there and not do anything, but I did it because we're _Kingsmen_ , Eggsy. We have to do these things."

 

"It's fuckin' mental, it is. I love you, Rox, and I'm not about to let the fuckin' Kingsmen make me watch you get torn apart, yeah?" He tosses the bloodstained wrappings at her, instinct making her reach out to catch them.

 

Giving her one last, lingering look, Eggsy walks out the door.

 

Roxy crumples the bandages in her hand tiredly, and counts to three hundred exactly to give him a head start before following him out.

 

* * *

 

Eggsy's head perks up as he hears the door to his townhouse open and slam. His instinct is to dive behind the kitchen counter and pull out his gun, but as soon as he hears the footsteps he relaxes. He knows Roxy's step, knows the sound of her feet on his floor.

 

She enters the room, swings a first aid kit on the counter, and grabs his hands.

 

"Sit."

 

He sits.

 

Opening the first aid kit, she begins to wordlessly dab antiseptic on the cuts, ignoring his protestations at the sting. Eventually Eggsy quiets, and the two sit in silence as Roxy cleans and wraps his wounds. As she tucks the last piece of bandage down, she brings his hand up and gently presses her lips to the gauze.

 

"If you won't do it for the Kingsmen, do it for me," she whispers, unsure if he hears her or not.

 

Eggsy fixates on a butterfly bandage that graces her cheek, holding two edges of a slim cut together. The white material barely contrasts with her skin, but it's broken up by the brilliantly red line running lengthwise down her cheek.

 

He touches it, gently. Roxy doesn't flinch away, looks him directly in the eye.

 

"I'm not a cross for you to martyr yourself on."

 

"Never said you were."

 

"Then stop acting like it." She's direct, no-nonsense, unwavering. "I don't want any of your I love you shit, either. If you love me, stop running your hands through a grater every time I have to do a confession extraction."

 

"Roxy…"

 

"Don't. Don't 'Roxy' me. We- we're a risk, and you know it. I love you so much, Eggsy, but we can't let this compromise us, yeah?"

 

"A risk," he repeats dully. "Is that what Merlin says?"

 

"Yes, it is. You want to know why? Because that's what we are. In our line of work…" Roxy heaves a deep breath. "Most of us can't afford attachments. We can't either, really."

 

Eggsy grips her hand tightly despite the pain. "I'm not giving you up."

 

"I'm not asking you to. But I don't want you hurt on my account." She grips his hand with equal fervor. He looks at her, reads her expression, commits every inch of her to memory.

 

"Roxanne Elizabeth Morton, it would be a fuckin' pleasure to be hurt on your account."

 

"I really wish you hadn't said that."

 

"No, you don't." She looks up at him in surprise. "You're glad that I said it, 'cause it makes you feel better about what we have to do. You wish I hadn't _meant_ it. You wish I was lyin' to you." Roxy's mouth opens, to protest, but he cuts her off. "I do mean it though, Rox. I'm not losin' you."

 

Roxy gives him an inscrutable look for one heartbeat, two, three, long enough for Eggsy to start wondering if he's said something wrong. Then she surges up and kisses him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and sliding forwards into his lap. Eggsy cradles her in his arms, bandaged hands moving up to fist in her hair.

 

She's so _alive_ in his arms, writhing and twisting, that it's easy to forget about the litany of cuts scattered across her, the map of bruises marked into her skin.

 

They come up for air with an agonizing slowness, her lips reluctantly parting from his. Even then, their faces nearly touch, only the barest breath away from each other.

 

"You won't lose me," she whispers. "But don't beat yourself up about the things we have to do, yeah? We're all Kingsmen. I won't give less to them than any of the others."

 

A muscle in his jaw jumps, but he nods. Roxy drapes herself over him, allowing her body to melt into his, boneless. Exhaustion radiates off her as she sighs.

 

"Merlin'll drag us into a lecture as soon as we get back, you know. He was throwing a fit when I left."

 

"How's that any different from normal?" Eggsy mumbles into the side of her neck, arms tightening as he feels her sigh against him.

 

"He's gonna try to--" Roxy gasps as Eggsy nuzzles into her, lips pressing against her skin softly, worshipfully.

 

"Let him. Not gonna change anything," he vows quietly. Roxy nods slowly, their limbs entwining, her anger forgotten. Eggsy touches her with a sort of reverence, every scar and bruise traced worshipfully, as if she would vanish beneath his fingertips.

 

(She doesn’t. Roxy stays in his arms until morning, blessedly alive.)  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and gg to geckoholic for the german corrections ich liebe Sie


	5. tuesdays

"Roxy, look at me, alright? Look at me." Eggsy's hands come to either side of her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. Under his fingers, her pulse is racing. Breaths come raggedly and forcefully as her eyes bounce around in their sockets, looking everywhere but directly at him.

"Roxy…" he says warningly. Her face crumples for a moment, brows knitting and eyes squeezing shut.

Roxy's a professional. Dragging in a deep breath, she looks Eggsy in the eye. He rubs her shoulders soothingly.

"I'll be right here, holdin' on, Rox, alright? You can do this. I'll be right down after you." She nods quickly, but the terror is clear on her face. 

"Okay. Okay, okay. I'm good. Let's go." Her fingers fumble at the straps around her, tightening them and fiddling with the buckles. Stepping out to the edge of their second skyscraper in as many missions, Roxy tests the rope. 

Then just as quickly, she steps back to him.

"You'll be right up here, and make sure the rope doesn't come away from the anchor, right? If it does, hold on." He nods reassuringly, hands squeezing hers.

"Course, Rox. You've got this, luv. You're a bloody Kingswoman, hear?" She nods and moves quickly towards the ledge. Not turning back, she heaves one last lungful of air, drops off the side, and starts rappelling down the building.

A rush of fondness fills Eggsy as he watches her move quickly (and if not calmly, at least with well-concealed panic) to her destination. It's going smoothly, her descent fast, until a sudden gust of wind blows her away from the side. Roxy swings out into open air.

Eggsy can hear the noise she makes, a small, terrified sound that makes his hands grip tightly on the rope. The fibers dig into his palm, but the tautness reassures him that his teammate is still attached. He winces as the rope moves forwards from the anchor and skins his hands, but he keeps holding on. His palms are raw and stinging now, but over the edge he can see that Roxy's managed to keep moving downwards.

Despite the wind howling all around him, he shouts into his earpiece in the vain hope that she can hear him. 

"Roxy! I've got you, I've got you, okay? Keep goin', you're almost there."

"R-roger that, Galahad. Approaching the target now." Her voice trembles but doesn't break as she lands smoothly on the balcony. "I'm here. Path is clear to follow."

"Noted, Lancelot. Comin' to ya." Eggsy buckles himself onto the rope, and swings down.

By the time he opens the balcony door, Roxy's already taken out their target. He grins.

"Atta girl, Rox." She glances up at him and smiles.

"Took you bloody well long enough, you lummox. Give me a hand with this, will you?" she says, indicating the safe in front of her. He ruffles her hair as he walks past, to which she makes an annoyed noise. Roxy starts to swat his hands away, only to grab hold of his wrists as he hisses in pain from the contact with his raw palms.

Facing him, Roxy turns his hands upwards so she can examine them.

"Rope burns." Her words are an accusation, not a question. "You were holding onto the rope as I rappelled down." He exhales in agreement, not looking her in the eye.

"Told you I'd be holdin' on, Rox."

"You bloody idiot. I didn't-- the pulley would have-- you just--"

"Hey," he says quietly, "I keep my promises, yeah? If I say I'm holdin' on, that's what I'm doin'."

"You're a fool, Eggsy Unwin. A stupid, loyal, incorrigible fool." He nods in agreement, flexing his fingers to lessen the stiffness.

"Now scoot over. I was always better n' you at breaking into stuff." She acquiesces and moves to his side, sighing as she flops to lay back on the floor. Roxy watches Eggsy with his mussed hair and burned up hands, and wonders what the hell she's done to get her life to this point.

The lock clicks and whirls.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout, Roxy?" Eggsy says. She rubs at her eyes tiredly.

"If you had told me two years ago that I would be here, breaking into a drug lord's safe in London's fanciest hotel, I would have laughed. But now…"

"Now it's just Tuesday."

"It's Friday, Eggs."

"Yeah, but it seems like we take down most of our drug lords on Tuesdays, innit?" Roxy barks out a laugh, rolling to a sitting position.

"If you say so, Eggsy."


	6. the wheels keep turning

Eggsy's mom moves out of his house when she's engaged for the third time. Hands are wrung and apologies are proffered unasked for, but all Eggsy really cares about is that she's happy. 

She is. Robert's a dentist, very nice and very rich, and also a full five inches shorter than Eggsy. (Which he is completely fine with. No one is messing with his mom ever again.) . When they shake hands for the first time, he makes sure that his grip is extra firm. Not tight, not crushing, but a solid 'don't-mess-with-me-I-mean-business' sort of shake. Rob smiles nervously and compliments it, hand immediately returning to rub the back of his neck. Eggsy won't admit it, but he's both gratified and mollified by the way he seems to intimidate the man. 

It probably doesn't help that he keeps his biceps subtly flexed whenever he's around and makes a show of performing strenuous tasks with ease. Gotta keep him on his toes, after all. But Robert's not the problem.

The problem is that now Eggsy is the proud owner of a very nice, very large, and very empty house. 

The solution is- and Eggsy has absolutely no idea when it happened, but it did- is that Roxy slowly starts to fill the empty places in his life.

She's so much to him. His peer, his teammate, his partner, his best friend, his coworker, his lover, and now basically his roommate. When he's not at her place, she's at his, and when she's at hers he's right there with her. 

Eggsy looks at Roxy, and he sees the world. Or part of it, at least. Right now, the world is sitting on his kitchen counter, swinging her legs absently as she brushes her fingers along a blueprint.

She's saying something about the blueprint, probably something important, but all Eggsy can focus on is the sweep of her hair, the freckles on her cheeks, the way her lashes are perfectly painted black to frame her eyes.

Eyes that look up to meet his and crinkle with a smile.

"Eggsy, are you listening to me?" she drawls. Cocking his head to the side, he leans in and savors the way her breath sharpens when he draws near.

"Always, Rox. Always." he replies. She tilts her head to match his and brings her lips until they're brushing the shell of his ear.

"Really? Then tell me where the fire escape that we need for the next mission will be, Mr. Attentive."

He doesn't even have to look as his finger finds the mark on the paper. Roxy grins. 

"I'll stump you one day." 

"I look forward to it." Eggsy grins and wraps an arm around her, tugging her to the edge of the counter and positioning himself solidly between her legs. Laughing, she wraps her legs around his slim waist and slings her arms about her shoulders. Their lips are just about to touch when the doorbell chimes.

The two immediately spring into a defensive stance, but a glance at the security monitor in the kitchen shows only Eggsy's mother, her fiancé, and Daisy. 

Leveraging himself up and away from the counter, Eggsy tugs at Roxy's arm.

"Wanna meet my stepdad-to-be, Rox?" 

"How many fingers should I break?" she jokes. He chuckles good-naturedly.

"That's my job, innit?"

"I could do it better."

"Yes, you could." he replies. Roxy stops just short of the door, hanging back in the foyer. Eggsy figures it's either to give him some semblance of privacy, or to cover his back in case of a sudden gunfight. 

Probably the latter. Eggsy has to stifle a sigh. He gets shot once, and the girl thinks that danger is around every corner.

His fingers brush the small gun deep in his pocket. The metal soothes his nerves, but he keeps it within reach. He can see Roxy perform the same check in the reflection of the window, even as he unlatches the door and happily greets his family.

"… good to see you too, Rob." Eggsy gestures for Roxy to come forwards, and she walks to his side, hip connecting with his as he slings and arm around her waist. "This is my girl Roxy. Roxy, this is my mum's fiancé, Robert."

Robert's a small man with a kind face and a nice suit. Roxy's eyes flit up and down, seems to judge him as a non-threat, and extends her hand. Eggsy breathes a sigh of relief.

"Roxanne Morton. Pleased to meet you." 

"Robert Johnson. It's lovely to finally see you." Her brow arches.

"You know me?"

He laughs with only slight discomfort. "Daisy loves you. Never stops talking about you and Gary."

Laughing, Roxy reaches down to scoop the toddler up. "Is that right, Daisy?" 

It's kind of terrifying how seamlessly she fits in, how easily she's made herself at home in his life. She smiles and bounces Daisy before turning to him, expression fading at his pensive expression.

Eggsy does his best to wipe it off his face, grinning as he takes his little sister from Roxy's arms. 

"How're you doing, champ?" She squirms to be let down, though, and he sets her on the floor and promptly chases after her as she bolts up to her old room.

They two of them spend the next ten minutes looking for a misplaced toy. Daisy finally finds it in the corner of the closet, and the two return to the kitchen in triumph.

Roxy's sitting, posture perfect, making easy conversation with his mum and Robert.

Eggsy doesn't fail to notice the strategic position she's placed herself in. Views of all the windows and doors, easy access to cover, plenty of objects to use as impromptu weapons. 

The wheels can never stop turning, he recalls her saying. That's when people die. 

When his mother's gathered Daisy up, she insists on leaving 'because you work so hard, Eggsy, I wouldn't want to intrude on your private time, love.' Eggsy coughs and clears his throat, face burning, but the rest of them chuckle. Roxy just stands by his side, still with that contemplative expression whenever she looks at him.

She turns to him as soon as the door shuts on their impromptu guests.

"Quid for you thoughts?" 

He shakes his head slightly. "It's nothin' really, it's just… weird to see something as normal as that, y'know?"

"After all we go through? I can understand." Her hand comes to rest on his arm, the simple gesture providing comfort, anchoring him to the earth. 

They stand there for a few moments, and then her hand falls.

"Back to work. We need to know that layout by tomorrow."


	7. fond of a blonde

"That's new." Eggsy stops abruptly as he enters the room, taking in the sight of a dark-haired Roxy in front of him. She glances away from her notepad and to him, letting the dyed strands drift in front of her face.

(He'd never admit it, but when he had come in and not seen her mop of blonde he had jumped a little for his gun, startled.)

Roxy runs her hand self-consciously through her darkened locks, fingers twisting in the strands. "Yeah. For the mission next week. The mark likes his honeypots as brunettes, so Merlin said I should dye it." She looks up at Eggsy, almost shyly. "It's only temporary."

He shrugs. "Less honey and more chocolate, if you ask me. Whatever, then." Sitting down by her, he starts working on his own paperwork. They sit together in companionable silence for a few moments. Roxy seems restless, fingers whirling her pen up and down. 

"Well?" she finally prompts. Eggsy turns to look at her, surprised.

"Well what?"

"Well, what do you think?"

He makes a non-committal noise. "I've always been fond of a blonde, but it looks nice."

"You don't like it as much as the blonde?" she asks. Eggsy seems caught off-guard by the question.

"Roxy, how much do you think I care about your bloody hair color?" he says, giving her a funny look that quickly turns to panic at her affronted expression. "Shite! No, Rox, not like that you know I-- ugh." He rubs his face tiredly before continuing. "What I meant was that you could dye your any damn color and you'd still be a fuckin' star, Rox."

"You're such a flatterer, Eggs." The look on her face belies her sarcastic tone as she smiles, fingers returning to flutter around her locks. Eggsy's calloused hand grabs on to hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Problem for me is that I'm gonna have t' keep my hands off of you during that mission and watch that right old lech feel my girl up."

Roxy laughs, a bright sound that bubbles out of her chest. "You can be the honeypot next time, Eggsy. Save me a load of work."

"My pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good news: you just got a 3-chapter bonus bundle!! fun!!
> 
> bad news: this is the end of the line for now, kiddos. hope you had fun but don't expect anything new anytime soon. my mojo is all used up, at least for this pairing, but i think i've done good work here. thanks for everything!


End file.
